In 1962, a team of structural engineers faced a serious problem at the newly built international terminal of an American airport. The signs guiding passengers to baggage claim, exits, and customs were filled with complicated official language. Tourists got lost, children became separated from their parents, and elderly travelers struggled to understand the technical words. The solution came when a graphic designer removed the unnecessary complexity, replacing long written instructions with simple universal symbols and clear language. Almost immediately, the confusion disappeared.When information is removed from its complicated layers, it becomes available to everyone. This is the basic idea behind an important rule of public communication: “Write in such a way as that you can be readily understood by both the young and the old, by men as well as women, even by children.”The message challenges the belief that intelligence is shown through complicated language. Instead, it presents complete clarity as both a practical responsibility and a moral duty. When communication is simple and direct, it connects different generations and removes barriers created by education levels or social background. The idea remains powerful because it speaks to a basic human need: the ability to understand the rules, stories, and ideas that influence our lives without needing advanced education to decode them.
The revolutionary style of uncle Ho
The author of this instruction was Ho Chi Minh, the revolutionary leader and president who guided Vietnam through decades of anti-colonial struggle. During the 1940s and 1950s, while leading resistance against French rule and later establishing the Democratic Republic of Vietnam, he faced a major challenge. More than 90 per cent of Vietnam’s population could not read or write, leaving them disconnected from announcements, education and political slogans.Ho Chi Minh gave this writing advice to journalists, officials, and speechwriters during media conferences in Hanoi, especially at the second congress of the Vietnam Journalists Association in 1962.He understood that if the government communicated using the complicated, classical Chinese-style writing traditionally used by educated elites, the movement would fail. His audience included farmers working in rice fields, tired soldiers, grandmothers caring for families in rural villages, and children carrying messages through secret routes. To unite these different groups, he wanted the government publications to avoid complicated political theories and use simple language instead. He followed this principle himself, writing short articles under different names in the newspaper Cuu Quoc (National Salvation), using everyday examples from farming and daily life to explain complex topics like economics and military strategy.
The power of clarity
The philosophy behind this approach connects with ideas from classical communication and political thought. It rejects the use of complicated words to hide weak arguments, a practice criticised by the ancient Greek philosopher Socrates during his debates with the Sophists. Socrates believed that real knowledge should be clear and understandable enough to be questioned by ordinary people.Centuries later, British writer George Orwell developed a similar argument in his famous 1946 essay, Politics and the English Language. Orwell explained that political confusion depends on exaggerated language that can make false ideas appear true and make empty promises sound like serious plans.When leaders and institutions communicate with simplicity, they practice a form of public responsibility. Complex writing can hide mistakes, corruption, or poor preparation. Clear communication removes those cracks. It forces the writer to truly understand the subject because explaining a complicated idea in a way a child can understand requires complete knowledge of the topic. It moves the responsibility of understanding away from the reader and places it on the person creating the message.
Communicating in the big 2026
This principle of making information accessible has become extremely important for modern organizations. In a world filled with short videos, instant notifications, and endless online content, people’s attention is limited. Whether in business, public health, or technology, organizations that communicate clearly are the ones that build trust.A clear example appeared during the quick release of public safety information about regional electricity upgrades during winter. Cities that published technical announcements filled with details about electrical systems and power distribution faced frustration from residents and lower cooperation. In contrast, communities that shared simple messages explaining exactly which areas would lose power, how long outages would last, and how to protect food supplies experienced fewer problems.The same idea is visible in global business. When technology companies create user interfaces and instruction manuals, the goal is simple and easy-to-use design, similar to the approach used by companies like Nintendo and Ikea. Their instructions rely on pictures, clear steps, and simple words, allowing an eight-year-old child or an eighty-year-old grandparent to understand how to use products without needing customer support.In education, the most successful teaching methods often reject memorising complicated textbook language and instead use approaches like the Feynman Technique, named after Nobel Prize-winning physicist Richard Feynman. He argued that if you cannot explain something to a first-year university student, you probably do not fully understand it. Teachers use this idea by asking students to explain scientific topics using simple language, forcing them to move beyond memorised terms and show genuine understanding.In 1947, while reviewing early drafts of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, French philosopher Jacques Maritain noted that the document would only have real power if it could be read aloud in a village square and understood by a worker returning from the fields. The strength of a message is not measured by how complicated it sounds, but by how deeply it reaches ordinary people.
